


Z Stands for Zokla, or alternatively titled, Jon's Wolf Bits

by direwolfjon



Series: 100 drabble challenge [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hen night, Jon is a stripper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-04 18:44:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21202316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/direwolfjon/pseuds/direwolfjon
Summary: As far as unexpected reunion stories go, having your long lost love returned to you as the stripper on your hen night must be a version you haven't heard before...





	Z Stands for Zokla, or alternatively titled, Jon's Wolf Bits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amymel86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/gifts).

> Written for the Jonsa 100 Drabble Challenge, for Zarah's prompt 'stripper'.
> 
> I tag Amy with prompt 37: chocolate
> 
> Don't ask me how Jon became a stripper in this universe. Just assume he needed the cash and Theon set him up to it or something :D
> 
> Lyrics to the _Zokla_ theme song:
> 
> _Out of the night,_  
_When the full moon is bright,_  
_Comes the horseman known as Zokla._  
_This bold renegade_  
_Carves a "Z" with his blade,_  
_A "Z" that stands for Zokla._
> 
> _Zokla, Zokla, the wolf so cunning and free,_  
_Zokla, Zokla, who makes the sign of the Z._
> 
> _He is polite,_  
_But the wicked take flight_  
_When they catch the sight of Zokla._  
_He's friend of the weak,_  
_And the poor and the meek,_  
_This very unique, āeksio Zokla._
> 
> _Zokla, Zokla, the wolf so cunning and free,_  
_Zokla, Zokla, who makes the sign of the Z._
> 
> _Zokla, Zokla, Zokla, Zokla, Zokla, Zokla._
> 
> Theme song taken from the 1950's show _Zorro_ with Guy Williams.
> 
> [Zorro Opening Theme](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQnle_3KuOE)
> 
> I suppose most people who are familiar with Zorro, or those who speak Spanish are aware that 'zorro' means fox, and since the High Valyrian word for wolf happens to be 'zokla', I decided to use that instead!

Sansa stared at herself in the mirror. Her lipstick was too bright and her eyeliner too bold. Both were perfect for tonight.

She knew this was not how it was supposed to be. It almost felt as if she was preparing to say goodbye, as if she was ready to start mourning old dreams she should have buried a long time ago. 

The old Sansa would be horrified to learn that she was settling. She was not as good at lying to herself as she once had been, which meant she was perfectly aware that that was exactly what she was doing.

She didn't want to marry Harry, but he would have to do. He was decent enough, and more importantly, she wasn't likely to find anyone more unlike Jon Snow, the only man she'd ever truly loved. Jon had been it for her: her Mr. Right, Prince Charming, Soulmate, One True Love, all those romantic heroes she'd dreamed of when she was younger all wrapped up into one, and no one would ever be able to replace him.

She couldn't blame Jon for leaving Wintertown to go south to look after his mother after she'd been diagnosed with cancer, nor for closing himself off from the rest of the world in his grief when she had died, or for going to Essos afterwards. They'd tried to keep in touch, but at some point they'd stopped texting and facetiming. 

They'd both been so young, but Sansa knew she should have been there for him, but then Bran had had his accident, and her family had also needed her, and at some point, it had become too difficult to reach out and be the one to take that first step, and she'd told herself it was too late.

Jon was still out there, and if he was suddenly standing right in front of her, there was no doubt in Sansa's mind what she would do. But why would Jon even want her? She'd abandoned him when he had needed her the most.

That's why she knew marrying Harry was the right choice. It was time for her to move on. She'd never get her fairytale romance, but Harry could give her at least part of her dreams. 

She sprayed a bit of perfume behind both of her ears and on her wrists and collarbones and jutted out her chin. _I'm ready, _she told herself.

***

"What's this?" Sansa slurred as Jeyne shoved another shot glass into her hand. 

"Damson gin," Jeyne answered. 

Sansa put the glass with the ruby-coloured liquid to her lips and tipped it up to let the liquor warm her tongue and her insides. It was sweet and rich, but it burned her throat.

Sansa giggled and licked her lips. "Dangerous stuff." She looked at Jeyne, who was looking at her phone _again, _for possibly the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes.

"Put that away and have another drink with me," Sansa begged, slinging an arm around her friend's neck, her earlier melancholy mood forgotten.

Jeyne however, pulled away from her embrace, angling her phone's screen so Sansa couldn't see it. 

She laughed when she caught Sansa's disappointed pout. "Sorry, love. The entertainment's running a bit late."

Even in the slightly tipsy state of mind she was in, Sansa's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Entertainment?"

Margaery joined her and offered her another drink, and for the next ten minutes, Sansa was thoroughly distracted, until suddenly a slightly familiar tune started playing.

It took her only a couple of seconds to realize what the song was, and to her embarassment, Sansa was still able to sing along to the lyrics.

And there, barging in through the door, was a male stripper who was dressed up as Zokla, completely with a black cape, hat and mask and a slender Braavosi style sword.

"Arya!" Sansa screeched. Despite being enthralled by Zokla's fencing skills while watching the show together when they were younger, her sister never missed an opportunity to take the piss out of Sansa over the crush she'd had on the fictional hero. 

Arya huffed out a laugh. "It wasn't me!"

Peering around the room, Sansa caught Jeyne clasping a hand over her mouth to mask a giggle.

"Jeyne?" she asked slowly.

"I'm sorry, Sansa!" Jeyne said in a cheery voice contradicting her apology. "It was Robb who told me!" 

"I need another damsel gin," Sansa muttered. 

She had to admit that stripper Zokla was a right bit of eye candy. He was muscular, but in a lean and graceful way. The way he was moving with that sword in his hand was positively enticing.

"He's good," Arya commented, and Sansa had to stifle a giggle when she guessed correctly that her sister's eyes were fixed on his feet and sword.

The theme song morphed into a slower rhythm and a more sultry melody, and Zokla's cape fell to the floor, drawing a chorus of squeals and whoops from the ladies in the room. 

Zokla steadily lost more clothes, gyrating his hips to the music and showing off his chiselled body as he divided his attention over all the ladies, but returning more often to Sansa.

When he let his shirt drop to the floor, earning him more appreciative sounds from Sansa's friends, he strode over to her again and took off his wide-rimmed black hat to gently put it on top of her head. Then he knocked it back just slightly to sneak under it and press a quick peck to her mouth.

Sansa licked her lips, completely mesmerized as she sat staring at him. She was completely enthralled by his performance, and for the brief moment his dark grey eyes had met hers, she'd felt something that touched her so deep inside her body and soul it scared her.

During that fleeting moment when she'd felt his soft lips against hers, she knew he'd wanted to kiss her. She'd wanted to touch him and pull him closer with her fingers tangled in his dark curls, and forget everyone else in the room. 

_Sansa Stark, you are very drunk. He's a stripper, he's just doing his job, and being very good at it. You should give him a generous tip. _

More squeals followed when Zokla's black slacks came off and he was left in nothing but his mask and a black thong with the image of a howling direwolf printed on the front bit covering his... _bits. _She didn't know where to look first. His strong forearms and ripped abs were still on display, but now she could also see his powerful thighs, and _fuck_, if she didn't look away, she was going to start imagining things she most definitely shouldn't be imagining. 

Swaying his hips, he offered her his backside, which Sansa couldn't resist cupping with both hands. He covered them with his own and encouraged her to squeeze.

_Gods, _his arse was so firm, and round and _perfect_, she thought dreamily. Her mouth had gone dry and a shuddering breath left her lips as she realized she'd been holding it.

Zokla turned around and took her hand, kissing her fingertips before pulling her to her feet, placing on hand on his chest and the other on his biceps. 

Sansa ran her fingers over the smooth skin covering his hard muscles. 

"Can she touch your other sword, āeksio Zokla?" Margaery asked, startling Sansa, who'd almost forgotten they weren't alone.

Without waiting for an answer, Zokla took her hand and led it to his crotch, but stopping before she actually touched him. Sansa bit her lip, hesitating.

"I can't believe I'm doing this!" she squealed. 

She squeezed her eyes shut and slid her hand down Zokla's abs until she reached his thong, a sudden boldness overtaking her as she stroked the fierce direwolf head on the flimsy piece of clothing before palming his length. 

She quickly pulled away when she felt a light twitch, looking up to find him staring down at her with darkened eyes. Those eyes, those lips, that dark hair and that jawline. Again, she was overwhelmed by that feeling of a deeper connection--familiarity, she realized suddenly. 

Instinctively she reached for the back of his mask. His breath hitched and he reached up to wrap his fingers around her wrist, but quickly released her again. She untied the strings holding the mask together, and as it fell away, it revealed a face she'd still recognize if she were dead.

"Jon?" she whispered.

He gulped and breathed out her name in a rough voice: "Sansa."

Her hand was still hovering in mid-air, so she reached out to cup his his cheek. He leaned into her touch and sighed, and suddenly she felt as if an enormous weight had been lifted from her shoulders, as if after so many years, she could finally breathe again. 


End file.
